Jed, having by this time been fully convinced that it was idle to resist, submitted to the Crusoe men, at the same time reminding them that the chasm was deep, and that a fall upon the rocks below might break his neck, and give Sam and his band something more serious than the robbing of a potato-patch to answer for.
"Now, don't you be any ways oneasy," replied the governor. "You didn't harm my men while you had 'em pris'ners, an' I won't harm you, neither. Are you fellers over there all ready? If you are, look out fur him, fur here he comes."
Jed's position just then was not a comfortable one. His hands were confined behind his back, his feet bound close together, and he was to be swung over the chasm as if he had been a sack of corn. The governor seized him by the hips, pulled him back until his feet were clear of the ground, and then let him go. He swung safely over the gully, and when he came within reach of Atkins and Friday, he was caught and held by one, while the other untied the rope. The Crusoe men followed after, and when all had crossed, the governor ordered Atkins and Jack Spaniard to put out the fire. As soon as this had been done, and the mutineers had collected the articles of the outfit, which they had intended to take back to the village with them, the governor lighted his lantern, and turned to the prisoner.
"Have you found out, by this time, that we can do just what we please with you?" he asked. "Now, will you walk down to the cove, or shall we tote you?"
"Well, I guess I'd best walk, hadn't I?" replied Jed, who was sharp enough to know that, however carefully he might be handled, he could not escape some severe bruises while being carried down that steep path. "Yes. I reckon I'll walk."
"All right; Xury, untie his feet, and you an' the cap'n look out fur him, an' see that he don't fall down."
The governor led the way to the cove, and, after the prisoner had been laid on one of the beds in the cabin, and the two mutineers had restored the outfit to its place, the Crusoe men stretched themselves on the grass near the spring, to hold a council of war. By the aid of the lantern, which he had placed on the little knoll that served for the table, the chief scanned the faces of his companions, and saw that on every one of them were reflected the thoughts that had been busy in his own brain. All his men believed as he did—that a crisis in their affairs was at hand. Tom Newcombe, as usual, was the first to speak.
"O, now, what's to be done?" he drawled. "If we keep this prisoner here his father will begin searching for him in the morning, and he will be certain to discover our hiding-place sooner or later. If we release him, he will go home and return immediately with help enough to capture us all."
"Well, that might not be as easy a job as you think fur," replied the governor. "If we are sharp, we can hold our own here against a dozen fellers, for a day or two. But we don't want to fight. We want to get away from here as easy as we can. Atkins, what have you and Jack Spaniard got to say about it? Are you waitin' fur a chance to get up another mutiny?"
"No, governor, I aint," replied the chief conspirator, quickly. "I'll never do it again."